


On My Way (nowhere)

by Reah22



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Family Feels, Jason Todd-centric, Jason is a stupid child, Kinda, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, light angst?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 04:17:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18422649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reah22/pseuds/Reah22
Summary: um. well. I... am not entirely sure what this is, but here, take it. I had the need to write something semi-angsty, so... here. Enjoy. Or don't.





	On My Way (nowhere)

Jason dragged himself off to the side, carefully checking to make sure all of his opponents were down. That was the last thing he needed right now-Joker’s goons clubbing him to death when he was trying to apply a field dressing. Either way, he’d probably die-if not from the stab wound in his side, then from whatever torturous hell the Joker had planned. No. He was not thinking that way. He was Jason goddamned Todd, the motherfucking Red Hood, the damned prince of Gotham herself. It’d take more than a deranged clown to kill him. Last time he’d needed help from a crowbar and an explosion. A stab wound would not slow him down. 

Grunting softly, he pushed himself up until he was sitting upright. Feeling the knife that protruded from his side, he decided it wasn’t that bad after all. _I’ve definitely had worse._ Pulling it out as carefully as he could, Jason dressed the wound and bound it tightly before clambering unsteadily to his feet. Blood loss made his head spin, but he pushed past it, stumbling on his original direction after his target.  
He was Jason Todd, and he was used to bandaging his own wounds.

 

Explosions racked the ground, making Roy stumble and causing Jason to let loose a small stream of profanities. Arsenal didn’t even blink, too used to Jason’s colorful language to be surprised anymore. 

“Hood! The whole place is going to come down around our ears if we don’t get out soon!”

“Alright! How long do we have?”

“We should've left yesterday! Better yet, we should’ve not come here at all!”

“Cut the theatrics, Roy! Where’s the exit!?”

“No time. I’m calling in Kori. Get prepared for pick-up!”

“Alright! That section over there is already mostly down. Head over there while I cover your back!” The two made their way over, ducking enemy fire the entire time. What had supposed to be a simple drug bust had somehow turned into a gang war when they were there, and now one of the sides had the building rigged to explode. All while Jason and Roy were still in it. Luckily, Roy had had the foresight to call Kori for backup before they had even officially decided they were going in. Roy twisted around when he reached the spot Jason had indicated, already calling Kori over the comms. His breath caught in his throat when he caught sight of his partner. 

“Jason!”

“I’m alright! Call Kori. we need to get out of here before these fools realize we’re here!”

“Already called her! She’s coming in now!” Roy watched as his best friend staggered into reach, bleeding from several gunshot wounds in his back and arm.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Those look pretty bad.”

“I’ll be just fine as soon as we- _ahhh shit_.” Roy lunged forward as Jason suddenly doubled over, clutching his left arm and groaning in pain. He gently grabbed him by the shoulders, careful to avoid hitting any of his rather numerous wounds. Kori chose that moment to bring the ship in, expertly navigating in through the roof. The warring gang members also chose that moment to fully focus on their surroundings, seeing the huge ship touching down through the roof. 

“Let’s get ‘em, boys! Show ‘em no one messes around in our territory!” the thugs turned and charged at the trio, and Roy decided that this was the last time he followed Jason on a drug bust in a foreign country. This wasn’t the first time this had happened; though it was the first time Jason had gotten so injured in just a minor operation. It also didn’t seem like he was wearing any body armor, which was a detail Roy filed away to talk about later. Right now, he had some ass to kick. 

Approximately eight minutes later they had made it out of the fight, and Kori was fussing over Roy and Jason’s wounds in the med bay.

“Honestly, you two. You called it a, and I quote, a ‘simple drug bust’.” Kori waved an elegant hand at Jason’s four gunshot wounds. “This is not my definition of ‘simple drug bust.’”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry, Kori.” Jason didn’t sound the slightest bit sorry, prompting Roy to narrow his eyes at him suspiciously. 

“Speaking of which, where the hell is your body armor?”

“I… forgot it?”

“You forgot your body armor.” Kori didn’t even sound skeptical or disbelieving. Her tone was merely flat, as if she was trying to comprehend the complete and utter lies Jason was telling them. Roy sighed deeply and stepped in.

“Listen, Jaybird. It’s okay. You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t feel comfortable talking about. Just-just know that we’re here for you, okay? We’re here because we care about you, and you should know by now that you’re not getting rid of us that easily. We’re here. When you’re ready to talk.” Jason twisted his back around, testing out the stitches Kori had done, before turning fully to look Roy in the eyes.

“Thanks, Roy. I know. And… the same applies to you, y’know.”

“Do you know?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I do.” He didn’t even struggle too much as Kori hugged him; just enough to be taken as a token symbol of resistance.  
His name was Jason Todd, and he had friends who had his back.

 

The police scanner had been quiet so far, but the night was still young. Jason was still optimistic about his chances to get in a fight. As always on this date, he could feel tension knotting in his muscles. He just wanted to move, to fight something; just do something physical. Something to reassure himself he was still alive. Still breathing. Finally, sitting still became too much for him. He jumped up and began striding against the rooftop, boots making a definitive clunking noise across the stone. Gotham was uncharacteristically quiet, and this was the one night he needed it not to be. _Isn’t that just my luck. Getting my ass kicked from here to kingdom come on a weekly basis, and the one night I go out looking for a fight, it’s quiet. Considering the day, it’s downright ironic._ He was knocked out of his inner monologue (okay, maybe he was taking the whole anti-hero thing a little too far) by a muffled thump coming from somewhere behind him. He didn’t need eyes in the back of his head to know it was a Bat. 

“Whatever you want, I’m busy. Bother me tomorrow.”

“Busy doing what? It doesn’t look like you’re too enraptured in whatever it is you’ve got going on.” The dry sarcasm in the tone was unmistakable, and Jason sighed mentally as he turned around to face Tim. On second thought, he might have actually done it, judging by the look on Tim’s face. 

“Busy being a productive vigilante. So spit it out. What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything. Jason, is it really that hard to believe that I just came to check on you? See how you’re doing?” Jason was on guard almost instantly. 

“I don't need to be watched like one of your little pet projects, Replacement! I am fine.”

“And that’s why you’re pacing around like a caged tiger at-” He even made a big show of checking a nonexistent watch. “- eleven o’clock at night?”

“Nobody’s robbing anything or breaking any laws. No reason to be on the streets.”

“You’re actually wishing for crime? Because if you are, vigilantism is technically illegal.” Jason spared a sullen look at the younger man. He could only hope it translated through the mask. 

“Stop the glaring, Hood.” _Ha!_ “And honestly. Cut the crap. How are you really doing?” Jason hadn’t relaxed once. He kept glaring daggers at the Replacement, opting to remain silent. I don't need their pity. I can survive on my own-I’ve done fine so far. Tim must have realized that Jason’s hostility came from defendence, and he dropped his own guard down to come closer to the Hood. His mistake. Jason didn’t give a sign before he leapt at Tim. He needed to fight, and Red Robin was as good a target as any. They rolled against the rooftop until they were dangerously close to the opposite edge. Jason straightened up to pull back his fists, but he hesitated when he realized Tim wasn’t fighting. 

“What’s wrong with you?! Fight!” Tim just steadily met his eyes, even through the domino and mask.

“Do you really want to fight, Jason? I think you know that this isn’t the way to deal with your problems. You’re not Bruce. You’re not Batman. You are Jason.” He rolled out from Jason’s grip, bending down to look him fully in the eyes. “You’re better. Better than that.” Jason sighed lowly and looked down at the ground. His voice was barely more than a whisper when he answered Tim. 

“What if I’m not better? What if I’m worse?” Tim didn’t miss a beat with his response, though the white pupils of his mask widened slightly.

“You’re not. And if- _if_ -you were, I still would’ve come.” Jason stared at him for a minute before reaching up to pull off his helmet, walking over to sit on the edge of the building. Tim joined him there, looking out over the city. If the huge pollution clouds over Gotham weren’t there, Jason was sure that the stars would be beautiful. Tim didn’t say anything, just settled down next to him, and they watched the city that they protected.  
He was Jason Todd, and he was not alone.

 

The old factory rang with the sounds of gunfire and various other flying projectiles, not to mention the various modes of trash-talking employed by both enemies and allies. Jason was barely able to dodge out of the way of what he hoped was an errant batarang. The last thing he needed was Batman deciding that he wasn’t worthy in the middle of the battle. Not that he didn’t expect it once the fight stopped, but surely he could at least fight uninterrupted?! Shaking off the traitorous thoughts-he wasn’t even killing!-he leapt right back into the thick of things, intercepting a ninja’s blade just in the nick of time to stop it from beheading the current Robin. The brat didn’t even thank him, just scoffed as he got back to his feet. 

“I could have handled that, Hood. I thought you had better things to do?”

“I do. Like fighting. Now shut up and get back out there!” The brat scowled at him, but didn’t waste any more time in throwing himself at another enemy. Jason turned his attention back to the ninja at hand- _and when did Ra’s enter this fight anyway?_ -and swiftly disarmed them. No matter how many opponents he brought down, there seemed to be four more taking their place. And for whatever reason, the stupid ninjas seemed to be targeting him. He fended off a handful of shuriken before realizing, a little too late, that they were merely a distraction. A long-bladed sword pierced his side, and he swore he could feel the tip from his other side. Jason stopped cold as the fighter stepped back, pulling the blade from his side as they did. 

“You have been getting worse than the last time I fought you, Jason. I’m disappointed. I didn't train you to be sloppy.” Talia then. Not any better than the Demon’s Head himself, but at least he knew who he was up against. 

“No, you trained me to kill.” It didn’t come out as menacing as he hoped it would, and he could feel blood against his lips as he spoke. _Yay. She probably hit a lung._ Pushing past whatever she did to him, he tipped his head back to look her in the eyes. 

“No, Jason. You made yourself into a killer. You, and you alone, made you. Or did you forget what I told you already?” No. He hadn’t. Grinning-and he knew Talia could sense it; she’d always been able to tell when Jason was mocking her-he shook his head slowly and impertinently. As he predicted, she leaned in to him, counting on the fact that his wound prevented him from moving. 

“Don’t laugh at me, boy. You always need someone else to blame for your actions. What happens when someone holds you accountable?” Jason grinned wider, unsheathing his kris quietly.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me.” Stealthily, he adjusted his grip on his kris and drove it upward in one move. It wouldn’t kill her immediately; she was only in danger of blood loss if she didn’t treat it immediately. 

“You!-” Whatever she was about to call him was abruptly cut off as she pitched to the side. Everything hurt, but he managed to turn his head to the side to catch a glimpse of Damian furiously attacking. 

“Do not touch him!” The kid was snarling like a rabid dog, crouched over Jason’s prone body. Talia seemed to sense that it would be futile to try to reason with him, instead assuming a more defensive pose and waiting. Waiting for the demonspawn to fly at her again, so she can swoop in and finish the job she started, Jason realized dully. His head and vision was starting to swim. Blood loss. Much to his surprise, the kid didn’t leave his side; only tightened his grip on his sword and adjusted his stance. Talia seemed to be thrown off a little as well, but she didn’t hesitate to charge her son and bring her sword down in an overhead cut. Damian met the blow squarely, meeting his mother’s gaze and glaring back. Jason watched the battle dully as all around them numerous other fights raged on; Talia must have picked this fight to mask her involvement in it. Idly, he wondered if she staged it all or if she had just picked this as the best time to… to what, exactly? He wasn’t exactly sure, and he didn’t know that it mattered right now. A large clattering sounded above him, and he looked up to see that someone had thrown a gold escrima stick and knocked Talia’s sword out of her hand. Jason decided he didn’t care enough to go to the effort of lifting his head to see who it was. Damian yelled triumphantly, and Jason heard him talking with someone mutedly, as if through water. The last thing he saw before his eyes closed was Duke looking down at him, and a belated sense of understanding.  
He was Jason Todd, and he had people who would fight for him.

 

His safehouse felt like it was on fire. Or maybe it was just him; he wasn’t sure. What he was sure about was that the world was blurry, and his head felt like someone was cutting it open from the inside. With a chainsaw. When he tried to stand up, spots swam in his vision, and he finally deduced that he must have a fever; probably among other things. So no patrol tonight then. As much as he wished he could say that this came out of the blue, he’d felt it coming on for a little while now. Dick must be the culprit; he was coughing the other night on the comms. He was just settling down in his bed after making himself comfortable (because no way in the entire multiverse was he getting up right now) he heard the distinctive sound of his window creaking open.  
“Where is he?” Steph. Great. How did she even find me? He had done his best to keep this safe house secret from all of the crazy Bat-lunatics. 

“Tim said his bedroom is down this way.” Oh. Suddenly that made a lot more sense. His little brother had been carving himself a larger and larger niche in his life, and part of that entailed keeping tabs almost obsessively on his whereabouts. No matter where Jason moved, Tim would pop up a few days later bearing ‘housewarming gifts’ and food. Jason had given up trying to deter him and instead just accepted it as a fact of life. In this instance, he wasn’t quite sure whether he should be more annoyed or grateful. Well, I guess there’s nothing wrong with being both at once. 

Suddenly, a new weight tipped the edge of his mattress, and he dimly recognized a figure darkening his peripheral vision. A hand reached out to touch his forehead, Jason weakly tried to bat it away. From the mixed noise of what he thought was amusement and concern, he judged that he probably missed pretty badly. 

“Cass? Did you find him?” Dick. 

“Yes. He is very sick.”

“What do you mean, sick?” More footsteps then, the door creaking as if someone else was entering the room. 

“Sick.” Cass’ tone made it very clear that she thought Dick was being an idiot. Another blurry shape joined the one already in Jason’s vision, merging into one big blob. More words were exchanged, but at this point it had become too much of an effort to keep his eyes open, and then he didn’t remember anything else. 

When he woke up again, he was still in bed, but this time he had company. Dick was curled up into his side, presumably sleeping; Steph had sprawled across his legs and was currently reading something she must have stolen from his bookshelves; and Cass was sitting on his other side tapping away at her phone. 

“C-Cass?” Immediately he could see both of the girls’ heads turn to him, and Dick stirred against his arm. 

“That is unacceptable, little brother. You know better. Next time, call.” Her tone left no room for argument. Steph looked up from where she was immobilizing Jason, nodding importantly at him.

“Yeah, little brother. You had everyone worried when you didn’t show up for family dinner last night. Or the work meeting this morning. And didn’t answer any of our numerous calls. And--” 

“Okay. yeah, I got it, Blondie. And I’m older than both of you, so y’all can stop with this little brother bullshit.” He winced inwardly at his full-force Gotham street accent; something that always returned whenever he was stressed or distracted. Alfred never had been able to train it out of him entirely, as much as he wished it was. His hoarse voice didn’t make the words any more decipherable, too. 

“No. You are not. Besides, older brothers are role models. They do not hide their illnesses. I am disappointed.”

“Ooh no! I’ve disappointed Cass! How will I ever live?!” He had to break off to suppress a cough, and he could feel the three pairs of eyes in the room assessing him. 

“For a sick person, you’re pretty vocal.” Steph observed. 

“I’m a sick asshole. That’s what happens.” Dick sighed loudly. 

“Listen, Jason. You can keep doing this ‘I’m Red Hood, and I don’t need family’ act, or you can actually talk to us.” 

Jason pretended to consider his offer. “And if I don’t do either?”

Suddenly, the three on his bed seemed a lot more intimidating, especially to his fuzzy eyesight. “We will make you.” Cass clearly enunciated every word, making a point of getting her word across. 

“You… probably could. Ask away, fulfill your moral obligations, and leave.” Steph and Dick huffed impatiently, and he could feel Cass’ eye roll. 

“No moral obligations. I promise. We’re concerned, little wing. You shouldn’t feel like you can’t come to us for help.”

“Didn’t need help.”

“Jason. You literally just passed out on us. I don’t even think you can see us right now, which, by the way, is more of a concussion symptom than a fever. And you definitely have a fever, because I can feel you burning up from over here. So shut up and let us help you. Tell us what’s wrong.” Steph’s voice brooked no argument, and Jason could see what Tim meant about people underestimating her. She might look harmless, but she was a Bat. 

“Which one, shut up or talk?” And nope. He was not making the mistake of talking back to her again. “Fine. What d’ you wan’ to know?” And the accent, coupled with his throat, was making it hard for even himself to tell what he was saying. Almost as soon as he got the words out, Dick’s arms wrapped around all of them, crushing them into a strangling hug. Jason found that he didn’t mind-all that much.  
He was Jason Todd, and he had family.

 

Jason was facing off against some unknown enemy, and he was in the dark. Not even just metaphorically; no, wherever the hell they had lured him, there wasn’t a single spark of light. Nor was his helmet, with the infrared vision, there either. Not that it mattered all that much-as any self respecting trainee of the All-Caste, he didn’t particularly need to see to fight. It just helped. 

A quiet noise alerted him split seconds before something leapt at his back, and Jason was able to twist around in time to dodge the attack. He tried to follow up with one of his own, but ended up almost stumbling instead. He twisted around, trying desperately to find out anything about this hidden enemy. The darkness held no answers, however, and Jason was left at just the same disadvantage that he was at before. Still not my worst moment. And no one could ever accuse Jason of surrendering without trying to fight first. Fight, then ask questions. Of course, this method really only worked when there were actually enemies to fight. Talking it is.

“Hello? Who’s there? I don’t want to fight, but if you do want to kill me, my name is Batman.”

_“Silence, Jason Peter Todd.”_

Jason gulped. He was in his Red Hood gear, sans helmet. Whoever it was knew his legally dead identity, which could lead him straight to Bruce and Batman’s entire empire. _How did I get here again?_ Jason couldn’t remember. He didn’t know what his last memory was-he knew he was Jason Todd, ex-adopted ward of Bruce Wayne, brother of Babs and Dick and Cass and Steph and Tim and Duke and Damian. He knew he was Red Hood. But he didn’t know when the last time he ate was, or what the last thing he did was, or how he got here. He didn’t know where he was in the first place. _How did I get here? Why am I here?_

“Where am I? What is this place?”

 _“Shouldn’t you know, Jaybird?”_ The voice changed to Roy’s, laughing and taunting, and Jason froze. 

“Roy? What are you doing? This isn’t funny!”

 _“Good thing I wasn’t trying to be funny.”_ Catherine’s voice now echoed through wherever they were, and Jason felt like either throwing up or hitting something. Or possibly both.

“Mom? What’s going on? Who are you?!?!” He screamed into the blackness.

 _“Isn’t it obvious, Jason? We’re you.”_ Jason felt like he had turned to ice, the blood in his veins moving sluggishly. 

“No.” He murmured. The voice laughed, then multiplied; becoming a haunting remix of everyone he knew. Catherine’s high-pitched giggle rose above Sheila’s darker, more husky laugh; and Willis Todd’s low growl was eerily reminiscent of Batman’s. Yet, through all that noise, the Joker’s maniacal cackle was still the forefront of it all. 

_“Come on, little birdie. Don’t give up on us now-you’ve ruined one of my best jokes already, I can’t have you destroying another one! No, that simply won’t do. I suppose we’ll just have to make you into a bigger joke instead!”_

Jason backed away, but he couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from. It echoed and bounced off the walls, and there was no escape from it. 

“Stop! Just stop! Why are you doing this?!” He screamed back, and for one blessed moment all the sounds ceased. All he could hear was his own breathing, coming in ragged pants like he’d just ran a marathon.

And then the laughing changed to the Batfamily’s taunts. 

_“You’re never going to be Dick Grayson.”_ Babs’ catcalled from somewhere to his left. He spun around, but there was nothing but more dark.

 _“He’s just a street punk. How is he ever going to be Robin? Are you insane?!”_ Dick sounded like he was right in front of him, but a few tentative steps proved him wrong.

 _“You might be many things, but an ally? Never.”_ Tim was just an arm’s reach away… but then his voice, too, faded. Jason let out a hoarse shout, not sure himself if it was a battle cry or a plea for mercy. He was only so strong. He couldn’t do this. 

_“Todd is weak. I say we leave him.”_ Damian’s words, but also not. Jason couldn’t remember much, couldn’t remember anything specific, but his mind conjured up an image of the small boy. He looked defiant and unrepentant, so much like him, and at the same time so much better than Jason could ever hope to be. 

_“Jason? Do what?”_ Duke’s tone held strong traces of sarcasm, but Jason remembered. Duke didn’t mean it like that; he was Jason’s brother. All of them. Family.

 _“He’s no relative of mine.”_ And just like that Jason felt like crumbling again. Stephanie’s tone held true contempt, no teasing overlay to soften the blow like there was with Duke. Because it was true, wasn’t it? He wasn’t really family. He might wear the bat across his chest, but that didn’t make him one of them. So what was he?

And then, in front of him, stood Cassandra. She was spotlighted from some far-away place, up near where the roof of the building was-or would be. He wasn’t sure if this place even was a building, or just some hellish nightmare cooked up special just for him. But there was Cass, and she looked real enough. 

“C-cass? Is that you?” Jason reached out a hesitant hand, as if he was afraid she would turn insubstantial when he touched her. The fear proved to be unfounded; Cass flinched away from his outstretched fingers, and looked up at him with plain fear written across her features. 

“Monster.” She whispered, and stepped back out of the light. Jason found it all, finally, too much. He dropped to his knees as the light disappeared, leaving him once more in darkness. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” His voice shook and trembled, and he vaguely realized there were tears streaming down his face. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t really want to, I swear!” 

_Liar,_ the voices seemed to whisper, out of sight and reach in the shadows. _You lie. All you wanted was to cause pain. All you are good for is false apologies._

Jason stopped talking. Stopped listening. It all took way too much energy, and he had nothing left to give. So instead he curled down on the ground in the fetal position, shoulders still shaking and heaving. It was hard to breath, but he just curled up in on himself even more. He just wanted to get away. How hard could it be to just stop?

It was some time later when it stopped. He didn’t know how long, and he had long since passed the point of caring. Mere seconds after the silence passed, a hand rested on his shoulder, and he didn’t even try to move away from it or fight it. He was ready. Let the demons come again.

But this time it wasn’t the demons. It was… he wasn’t quite sure what it was, but they pulled him onto their lap, hugging him close. They were talking, too, and after a few minutes passed Jason was able to make out the words.

“Shhh… just relax, Jaylad. I’ve got you. Don’t worry; please Jay. This time is different; I’m here now. There’s more help on the way. J-just stay still, Jason, please.” 

Jason relaxed like his father said to, and he was dimly aware of hot tears splashing down on his arms, and then nothing.

He was Jason Todd, and he had a family.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. This is totally why I haven't been updating the other one like I should be, so. Also, I don't... know... what happened? But whatever. Also, I went back and added italics, so that should help a little!


End file.
